The Ski Dream

By James P Warner

In the excesses of the 60s and 70s a boy from a small town in New Jersey lines inspiration, friendship and love in the exciting decadent world of skiing. Sunny Warner dreams of becoming the fastest, the best skier on the mountain. Follow Sunny from growing up in Glen Ridge New Jersey to Stowe Vermont and on to one of the great ski areas of the West

• Language: English
• Publisher: James P Warner
• Release date: Jan 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9780986385520

Book preview

James P. Warner

Copyright©2014 by James P. Warner

ISBNs

Paperback: 978-0-9863855-0-6

Cloth: 978-0-9863855-1-3

eBook: 978-0-9863855-2-0

Foreword

What you are about to read is just a story. It is not intended to and does not depict any actual events. It’s just a story told by the author for the amusement of you, the reader.

I would like to dedicate this book first to my hero—and the person who believed in me the most—my father Major George Howard Warner, and secondly, to my brother who tragically lost his life following his dreams, Daniel Jay Warner.

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the love and support of my family, which allowed me to face challenges and follow my dreams.

I would also like to recognize the kindness and wonderful accomplishments of Margaux Hemingway. The world is a lesser place without her.

James P. Warner

The Ski Dream

People find inspiration in many ways. This is a story of a magical time in a boy’s life. With the support of his family, one boy and his best friend learn about a passion in life. They are driven by the grandeur of the mountains, the exhilaration of speed and the appeal of the decadence of ski towns.

Sunny, a boy from Glen Ridge, New Jersey, with a speech impediment and learning disabilities, was not your average kid. Skiing motivated him to discover the world on his terms and find success in life. Sunny and Carl, both from New Jersey, team up with a unique, unlikely group of ski bums and create a Ski Dream.

To a dedicated skier, ski bumming means to love skiing more than anything. Once, ski town employees were a valuable commodity. To most people the term bum would be a derogatory word, but in the ski world at one time, it was a term which carried pride and dedication. Employers would offer room, board, and lift passes to anyone who would come to their ski town and work for the season; hence the birth of the ski bum. Ski towns were filled with people who came solely for the love of skiing, eating, and sleeping. Ski bumming was more than just a pastime, it was a lifestyle. To someone who had a true passion for skiing, ski bumming became their identity. It was who they were, and being a ski bum shaped how they saw the world and how the world saw them. A ski bum woke up thinking about where, when, and how they were going to ski. On every run, on every turn, they wanted to find a way to learn, to improve. Learning to ski better was the passion. People that just skied down a mountain just didn’t get it. You had to ski harder, faster, longer and take more risks. It was a hunger. The harder, faster, longer you skied and the more risks you took and got away with, the better you felt. Yes, it was all about the adrenaline. The problem was that ski bumming was to be short-lived and the lifestyle was in jeopardy. As skiing and ski towns grew, professional waiters and waitresses came and ski bums became a dying breed. In every ski town the never-ending question still remained: Who is the best, who is the king of the mountain? Who is the fastest, who will ski harder, longer and take the biggest risk and get away with it? This is a story of one boy’s dream to be The King of the Mountain during the last days of the ski bums.

To tell the story of Sunny’s pursuit to be the King of the Ski Bums or the King of the Mountain, one would have to go back and see how a ski bum is made. It wasn’t so easy. So the story starts with growing up in, of all places, New Jersey.

Growing Up in New Jersey

New Jersey is a wonderful place that is unique, actually having four balanced seasons. 1958 was a magical time when the economy was rebuilding after a recession, post-World War II. Sunny lived in a small town named Glen Ridge about 15 miles outside of New York City. The town was 2 miles long and a half a mile wide. The Memorial Day Parade was attended by everybody and led by Sunny’s father, a true World War II hero and also his hero. The main road that went from one end of town to the other was lined with beautiful shaded trees and gas lamps. There were gas lamps throughout the entire town. In the fall when the trees turned colors, the town looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. When the leaves fell, people could rake them into the street and burn them. It was wonderful that you could smell the leaves burning throughout the town. Everybody went to the town football games and Sunny could hear the high school band playing from his bedroom window. It was a time of innocence. Cars were made of metal. Families ate dinner together every night. Most houses only had one phone on the wall and nobody dared to answer it during dinner. There were no school buses in Glen Ridge; children walked to school. Sunny’s grade school, Forest Avenue School, didn’t even have a cafeteria. At lunchtime the students were dismissed and they went home for lunch. He walked home by himself about a block and a half on Forest Avenue. Nobody thought that children shouldn’t be able to walk home by themselves in the 50s. Glen Ridge was close to a commuter train, which went into New York. Many businessmen were able to walk directly to the train station. New Jersey was a great place to grow up, but it wasn’t the place that was known for its ski industry—yet it did have a fair amount of snow each winter. For Sunny, at the age of eight, each season seemed a year long and something to look forward to, while winter seemed the severest of them all. Bad weather meant staying in the house after school, or sometimes even to stay in on a Saturday. Now, New Jersey isn’t known for its snowfall. But when someone is only 4 feet tall, 10 inches of snow is overwhelming. No one in New Jersey really prepared for snow.

When the snow fell, people just stayed put until things got cleared up. At least the adults did. It was every New Jersey kid’s dream to have the streets covered with snow and also have the day off from school. Mothers bundled their children up in snowsuits which provided them with enough padding and insulation to survive any winter assault. In Sunny’s family, wrapping eight kids up was nothing short of an art form. From the oldest down, there was Gus, then Gary, the twins Gillian and Georgia, Jody and Sunny, Jeff, and the youngest, Danny. There were six boys and two girls in all. Sunny’s family was a blended family of yours, mine and ours before its time. Sunny’s father remarried, and Sunny’s step-mother had four children, Gus, Gary and the twin girls Gillian and Georgia. In Sunny’s family, there was his oldest brother Jody, younger brother Jeff, and then came Danny who tied the two families together.

This undertaking was no small task. Managing a household of eight children took courage and discipline. Sunny’s father had gotten custody of him and his two brothers, so marrying a woman with four children was an act of kindness, love—or well, we’ll just leave it at that. His father, George Warner, made a career as a military man. He had attended Valley Forge Military Academy as a youth and upon graduation, found himself smack dab in the middle of the European Theater during World War II in a battle called the Battle of the Bulge. If there was a time you wanted to be an officer, this probably wasn’t it. He stayed in the military reserves after World War II to complete a 20-year career. It’s no wonder that the household had discipline and structure.

Sunny was a boy of his own mind—happy, athletic, and energetic with a passion to dream. In 1955 when Sunny started school, terms such as dyslexia and Attention Deficit Disorder didn’t exist. There was no special education for people like Sunny. And you weren’t special, but rather an inconvenience for the teacher. For Sunny, he quickly understood he was different and was subjected to daily insults and accused of being nothing short of retarded. Fortunately for Sunny, his father had an unwavering belief in him. And the 6 foot something, red-headed principal Mrs. Gardner PhD would not let him give up. She would see Sunny standing in the hall after disrupting the class, look down and say, "Sunny I know you’re smart. I know you can do this." So Sunny learned at an early age that he had to figure things out or face failure, the former being a skill that would eventually serve him well.

For Sunny, being in a large family meant a lot of things. First, having eight kids always meant having someone to play with, but it also exemplified all his difficulties and meant that the focus was not always on him. When the snow came, the older crew seized the opportunity to pick up extra cash by shoveling walks. Everybody knew where the older people and single women lived; that was a sure thing. Of course, nobody went anywhere until their own home was done first. All the steep streets were impassable by car, and therefore skillfully packed for tobogganing and sledding. However, Sunny quickly found tobogganing lacking a demand for skill and he became curious for something else. That particular year, the snow had come early. So his request to learn to ski sparked his father’s idea for a Christmas present.

When you have such a large family, you learn not to expect large expensive gifts. Sunny’s family wasn’t wealthy, but they weren’t poor either. Christmas presents took up at least two rooms in the house. Needless to say with a family of eight, secretive Christmas shopping was impossible. There simply was no time when his parents could move within a 100 mile area without bumping into at least one kid. The best that could be done was to wrap things up and not tell which box went to which child.

One Saturday, Sunny had chosen to spend the day with his dad. His task was to move some Christmas presents to his grandparents’ house, as their own home could not hold any more gifts and still be functional. So he and his dad went around loading the family station wagon. The reason they took the family station wagon was that U-Haul wasn’t in business yet. Sunny couldn’t help inquiring about this one item. It was too long and thin. Sunny had to ask,

What’s this? Much to his surprise, his father replied, Oh that’s yours. It’s a pogo stick.

Now being his age, Sunny did not question his father but he was curious about the size. If someone had not seen a pair of skis wrapped up, it could have looked like a pogo stick. So Sunny didn’t give it a second thought. He trusted his dad. Still, he was excited and it felt good that his dad had confided in him. He planned to act surprised when opening the present so he wouldn’t ruin the surprise his mother expected.

On Christmas, all the children spent the night up in their sisters’ room on the third floor. After all, if you were going to listen for Santa, you had to get as close to the roof as possible. All the children grabbed their blankets, pillows, and found a spot to wait for the sound of sleigh bells. It was a night filled with anticipation. With this many kids waiting for Santa, there were enough butter cookies left out to give Santa hardening of the arteries before he left the house.

The problem with all the children sleeping in the same room—with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads—is that when one woke up to see what Santa had left, all of them would soon follow.

First stop, the tree on the first floor. If the descent down two flights of stairs did not wake the parents, the kids jumping on their bed did! In later years, the family had a no opening presents until 5 o’clock in the morning rule because Sunny’s parents had spent so much time providing the moment; all the children would open one gift at a time so all could share the surprise.

When it came time for Sunny to unwrap his pogo stick, the size and shape drew everybody’s curiosity. Needless to say, Sunny was overwhelmed when he discovered his pogo stick had turned into a pair of skis. All his brothers and sisters were delighted and anxious to see how they worked. Watching this awe from their children, his parents must have known they had created a land-slide interest in a family sport.

Fortunately, it was a white Christmas and the nearest hill was one block away. It wasn’t a ski hill, but it was a hill. Actually it was a snow covered street, but that day it was a ski hill. So Sunny’s dad grabbed his skis and Sunny as well, and off to the hill they went, neither of them having a clue what to do. They spent most of the time on their butts. Eventually they learned how to snowplow, but still, using their butt for a brake seemed the most effective way to stop.

Now remember, they had several hazards to encounter. The first, being a street with curbs, trees, and houses on either side. The second, they weren’t alone. Every kid on the block who had received a sled, toboggan or dish was utilizing the same thoroughfare. Sunny was the only one with skis besides his dad. This was both good and bad. It was good that they did not have more kids flying down the street out of control, and bad that Sunny had no one else to provide him with an example of what to do. Still, he loved it.

Moving Up

By the following year, Sunny was anxious for something more challenging. The next available terrain which provided some shelter from traffic was the local golf course. Not exactly the Alps, but it was a step up and he could walk there. To his amazement, other people were there with their skis. At this point, he didn’t really understand the concept of mountains or ski lifts.

To Sunny’s surprise, two or three other people besides his dad had the same ambition to learn skiing. It was nice not to be alone in the world and now they had someone else’s direction on what to do. Turning was a challenge, as that portion of the course which provided enough terrain was still very short. To be able to stop was an increased necessity as they progressed. Their whole skiing experience was much like ski jumping. They started out straight down, looking for a bump to provide additional excitement. The ultimate thrill was to stop before hitting a tree, fence, or street with oncoming traffic. To them, skiing at the Glen Ridge Country Club provided dreams that would eventually become a motivator and lead to a career in the industry.

Now it had been a while since he had received his skis. As previously mentioned, New Jersey does not get all that much snow. Sunny had made many trips to neighboring golf courses and by this time, had actually mastered some skills. Sunny had, at least, not broken anything on himself or on anyone else.

One Saturday his father, while driving by one of the golf courses, stopped to watch him. To his amazement, he found Sunny’s attempts at skiing somewhat inspiring and his dad decided to organize an actual ski trip. Ski areas had come to Northern New Jersey as early as 1937, but Sunny’s father decided to try a ski area just up along the Hudson River in New York State some two hours away. There was no way his father was going to experience this adventure with only one child of such a large family. This was going to be a full-blown family adventure.

Now to organize eight kids in order to get up and be on the road at 5 in the morning was a feat in itself. Sunny’s dad, having come from a long military career, had everything organized to the greatest detail. He systematically packed skis, boots, poles, etc. in the car the night before and had all the children lay out their clothing for inspection. They did everything short of sleeping in the ski clothes.

They all woke promptly up at 5 a.m. with great anticipation of what was yet to come. They dressed and stood for a final inspection—then climbed in the car and fell asleep. With eight kids and equipment in one car, sleeping on top of each other was expected and they must have looked like puppies in a box. Sunny always sat up front, as he was extremely susceptible to motion sickness. They had been on many family trips before so they all knew the travel routine. When they arrived and got their first look at a ski area, Sunny was so amazed by how much snow and how big the mountain was. There was more mountain than Sunny had ever imagined. The idea of lifts and prepared skiing areas was unbelievable.

Sunny had been involved in athletics for a while. He started, as the whole family did, swimming at an early age and managed to advance his skills to an AAU (Amateur Athletics Union) competition level. Sunny didn’t really have the skill or interest, but he would go train three nights a week rather than do homework. He was older now and wanted something more social.

As a result of Sunny’s swimming accomplishments and tenacity, his family thought he was an okay athlete. Not knowing any better, he excelled—because if they believed he could, so did he. If you really believe you can do something, you probably will. And believing in yourself is the most important part of succeeding. Anyway, even with all the excitement, Sunny was a little overwhelmed and challenged. Always enjoying a challenge, Sunny took to skiing as his family expected him to and did alright. In some ways, if you have the support from your family and you can find that special passion, you begin to believe in yourself. That one thing you can use to drive yourself to succeed, past the obstacles of a learning disability. You can use it to succeed in a sport that is not germane to your environment, and your goal to become a professional skier and coach becomes much clearer. So Sunny’s father took him skiing, and it began.

Sunny’s father wasn’t poor; he also wasn’t stupid. He took one look at the cost of skiing lessons, realizing the family had to have some, and decided to take a quick one hour private lesson and disseminate the knowledge down through the ranks (that would be all the children). The ski equipment that sat in the basement, his dad had received as a child too. When his instructor looked at what Sunny’s father was trying to put on, he first proceeded with an explanation of equipment, and then did what he could, teaching him with what he had to work with. By now, it was lunch time and all the family needed a break from the rope tow. Besides, one had lace-up boots in need of tightening. After lunch, the family started in a group lesson taught by the new substitute ski instructor, Sunny’s father. Sunny could not believe his rising levels of ambition and tenacity; he was sure he had reached his maximum of those great qualities already. After a long day, he and his brothers and sisters slept on the way back home again, a box of tired little puppies. Sunny’s ski dreams had just begun. That was the first of many ski trips, and with each trip, Sunny improved and became hungry for more.

Magog, Canada

If someone has not been bitten by the ski bug, they do not know how skiing can change their life. Family ski trips became a regular routine and were an exciting part of family life. There was the excitement of the trip the night before, anticipating the challenges of the next day, but it was even more than that. It was being together. It was being in the car together, laughing together, skiing together, and eating lunch together. Driving in the car and watching the miles go by, the endless games of making words out of letters of license plates from other cars—laughing at jokes and falling asleep against whoever was sitting next to you; all of this was memorable. The ski trips were in the family station wagon, the last seat facing backwards. If you were unfortunate enough to have to sit in the back, you got a great view of where you had been.

The family even learned how to take turns helping their dad stay awake while driving. By the way, Sunny’s mother never took an interest in skiing. With eight kids, it’s possible she enjoyed her time alone when everyone was gone.

Every Christmas or birthday, ski equipment became a common gift in Sunny’s family. One year, Sunny’s dad decided, for God knows what reason, that Canada was the place they should spend their Christmas vacation (maybe it was the exchange rate). So they ventured north, ten hours or more to Magog, Canada. Sunny couldn’t imagine paying for all those lift tickets, much less the motel rooms. The trip started out excitingly, early in the morning as everybody was just waking up and anticipating a long week off—to not only a new ski area, but in a different country. To avoid spending a lot of money, the car was packed with snacks and lunches. The only stops were for bathroom breaks and coffee. It was an exciting time to watch the road go by mile after mile. As the car ventured further north, the trees became more covered with snow. It increased everybody’s anticipation. Some kids were able to read books and keep themselves busy. Sunny always got car sick, so he sat up front and just daydreamed. Ski trips like this brought the family closer, yet they weren’t without their challenges. On the first trip, Sunny’s mother drove—only to have the family station wagon drop its transmission, leaving them stranded. This is where all the structure paid off. Each member of the family knew what their part was, and pulled together to make things easier. There was no complaining about snow; there was only seeing how you could help. Both Sunny’s parents were somewhat survivalists, so with a nine hour layover in New York State, they finally made it to their destination.

Canada was colder than anything Sunny or his family could have imagined. The cold would have been unnerving to almost anyone else. But to Sunny, it was surprising to know that he could see forever, and at night he could see more stars and sky than he could imagine. The snow was so dry. And it crunched when you stepped, and your nose hairs stuck together when you breathed. To Sunny, there was snow everywhere; and atop a big mountain, the sky was like something he had never seen before. Despite the cold, they skied avidly. This time, the family had private lessons and their instructor was a wonderful skier named Mario; he will never be forgotten. Actually, the Warner family didn’t sign up for private lessons; the family just took up the entire class. Sunny skied on the tails of Mario’s skis every chance he could, emulating his every move. Not the best performance, but by now it was evident that Sunny had more courage and balls than anyone.

Ever since then, Sunny had the passion to learn and the drive to ski better at each turn. Sunny had the love to ski faster, harder, and take more risks.

Staying in the motel, meeting new people, and skiing with Mario and his family left a big impression on him. The effort Sunny’s parents put into overcoming obstacles and providing such a wonderful family trip created a memory that would last him a lifetime.

After skiing in Canada, Sunny couldn’t wait to practice his new skills at any opportunity. Sunny’s abilities grew with every turn on every trail on every ski trip. It became the one thing in which he was able to find some success. If he was unable to talk his dad into taking him skiing, he was able to hitch a ride with one of the other families in town who also skied. The ski community was kind of a close knit group. Everybody who skied knew each other. It was something you had in common. Sunny realized that he could be known for something other than his struggles in school. He enjoyed hanging out with his friends, but didn’t seem to get caught up with the same big social changes that were going on in the world.

In 1964, the Beatles and the British Invasion hit and the world had gone from Eisenhower to experiencing Kennedy’s assassination to the Vietnam War and Lyndon Johnson. There were antiwar protests and the Civil Rights Movement and even shorter dresses on women. In Sunny’s world, school continued to be very difficult and the only explanation was that he must be lazy. Rather than focusing on what he couldn’t do, Sunny focused on what he could do, and that was skiing.

Fall 1965

After such an experience, Christmas ski presents didn’t cut it anymore. Sunny was now looking for some performance in his equipment. He had actually graduated to a buckle boot, and now it was time for some better skis. That fall, Sunny and his dad went to ski movies by Barrymore or John Jay, which were magical, and they read ski magazines. The movies were shown in the